


Songs not Heard Before

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [51]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Comfort, Death, Established Relationship, Explicit Sex, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Justice, Overworking, Parent-child estrangement, Past Abuse, Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Persephone is working hard to assist the mortals to withstand the effects of her mother’s Winter, and at the same time doing her job as Queen of the Underworld.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 22
Kudos: 231





	Songs not Heard Before

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Apollo is mentioned.  
> Previously in this series: 
> 
> Persephone was snatched away by Demeter, and subsequently rescued by and married to Hades. In consequence, Demeter is angry and brings on Winter in the Mortal Realm. Zeus has a tentative plan to marry Eileithyia off to Hermes. Psyche is immortal now, married to Eros, and learning about her powers.

It’s late in the afternoon, and we’re still hearing cases in the courtroom. A large backlog built up while Persephone was away and I was searching for her. Since our return, we’ve naturally been judging cases together, and I try to keep the sessions relatively short. I know Persephone is struggling with her new workload and honestly, shades can wait. After a month of playing catch-up, the end is nearly in sight. The mortals we’re judging today only died a few days ago.

“Do you want to call it a day and finish up on Monday?” I ask Persephone after a particularly gruesome case.

“No, I’d really rather get them all done, if you don’t mind.”

I’m not surprised. Persephone is more conscientious than anyone else I know. “That’s fine. Next case, please!”

The daimoness that Persephone chose as the new head Shade Coordinator nods and fetches another shade. This one is a young woman with deep olive skin and clouds of dark, curly hair. She looks around with great fascination, then catches herself and bows to us.

“Great ones,” she says. “I am honored to be in your presence!”

Her tone and enthusiasm are unusual for a shade, and her words even more so.

“It says here you died as a result of a fire,” Persephone says, reading from the mortal woman’s life scroll.

“So they tell me, merciful goddess. You are just as your priestess described.”

“You know Eunelia?”

“I have heard her speak. She talked of a wondrous place where the dead might be happy.”

“It’s quite true.”

“Is it also true that you were stolen away from your mother?” The shade glances nervously at me.

Persephone’s smile is pained. “My mother would like people to think so, but no. I am here by my husband’s side of my own free will. It’s kind of you to be concerned for me.”

“There are so many different stories going about. It is bold of me to ask, but you see, I was recently married myself.”

I exchange a look with my bride. I have been judging the mortal dead for a very long time. I have heard every possible method of dying that mortal ingenuity can devise, and every possible combination of circumstances, whether tragic, deserved, or accidental. I am certain I must have faced a newly-married shade before now, probably many of them. Before now, it never had particular meaning for me.

Persephone reads from the scroll. “Your house caught on fire and you were perfectly safe outside. You went back in and rescued others, it says. Including several children.”

The mortal woman nods. “Yes, my lady. The children are my nieces and nephews, you see. Did they live?”

Persephone checks the scroll again. “It seems they did. Some injuries, but nothing serious. But you--you got a number of burns and inhaled a lot of smoke. You don’t remember?”

“No. I do not.”

“Do you feel you have earned a place in Elysium, mortal?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

The shade hesitates. “I would say no, great lord. I was a vain and frivolous girl.”

“And humble, it seems,” I reply. “You saved multiple people. How many children, Sweetness?”

“Four. One of them still a toddler.”

“Four children who will get to grow up, because of your actions. Your sacrifice,” I say.

The mortal woman trembles. “I only did what I had to do.”

“That is the point,” Persephone says. “You _had_ to. Many people would not have felt that they _had_ to.”

This is the most that Persephone has ever spoken at a shade trial, at least since our marriage. I smile at her, and nod. She nods back, a little tentative.

“You are worthy, mortal woman. You shall have a place in Elysium,” Persephone declares.

“Oh! I thank you, gentle goddess!” She sinks to her knees and lifts her tearful face to us. “I am most grateful.”

“It is where you belong. You earned it. What is your name?”

“If it please you, lady, I am called Eurydice.”

After the woman goes out to find her new place in Elysium, Persephone smiles at me. “How do you stand that throne? Is yours any softer than mine?”

I snort a laugh. “No, it’s literally rock. It’s not meant to be comfortable.”

Persephone’s new throne is the twin to mine, sleek black marble, identical in every way. I had to send back the first one, as the artisan thought making a smaller copy was the proper course. It might have been more in proportion with my wife’s physical stature, but I didn’t like the implication that she is less important than me.

The next shade comes in, a threadbare mortal man. His story involves one case of hard luck after another, until finally he was caught in a cold rain while travelling and developed a terrible infection in his lungs. 

“You died because of the bad weather, then?” Persephone asks.

“I suppose so, goddess,” he replies matter-of-factly. “But I was getting long in the tooth. It was only a matter of time.”

This mortal is unremarkable, neither particularly good nor particularly bad. I wait to hear Persephone’s opinion, but she merely gives me a tiny shrug. This is her way of telling me she’d rather I took this one.

“Send him for retraining, case to be reviewed in two hundred years,” I pronounce.

“Yes, sir,” the shade coordinator says, making a note.

Reviewing cases is a new practice, yet another of Persephone’s reforms. She argued that shades sentenced to work should have another chance at rebirth or Elysium, if they distinguish themselves. I would go a lot farther than that to please her, but in all honesty, I like the idea. I’m proud that the Underworld is becoming more just and even-handed. My measures for success used to be profit and efficiency, but I’m not too old to learn a new way.

“Seriously, my butt’s getting sore,” Persephone whispers to me. “Can the court budget stretch for a cushion?”

“What? And impair the dignity of the throne?” I whisper back, teasing.

“It’s that or I sit on your lap, which I already know is a lot more comfy. How’s that for your dignity, Mr. Judgey?”

I’m trying to keep a straight face, but I fail completely, breaking down in snickers. I absolutely love it when she sasses me. If anyone but Persephone spoke to me like that, I would hit the roof, but she can do it all day if she likes. In this case, I think her tone is a result of her growing confidence in her role. Seeing her becoming comfortable acting as Queen gives me a feeling of deep satisfaction.

When we finally complete the docket, it’s definitely time to go home for the day. Persephone takes my arm with a show of solemnity as we rise from our thrones and leave the courtroom. We have to fight against the tide of workers streaming out for the weekend, but once they identify us, they get out of our way.

“That mortal woman, Eurydice,” I say once we reach the elevator. “That was a sad story.”

Persephone glances at me. “Because she was so recently married, you mean? Yes, it is. The idea of being separated forever… it’s terrible.”

“It won’t be forever, though. Not now that you’ve made Elysium.”

She turns slowly toward me and her face lights with hope. “I suppose that’s true, assuming her husband can earn his place. And assuming he doesn’t remarry and forget her.”

“I don’t think he’ll forget her.” I reach out and cup the side of her face. “Not the woman who saved his family.”

Persephone smiles gently. “That’s what a man looks for in a wife?”

I laugh. “You know what I mean. She’s brave and strong, like you.”

She lays her hand over mine, pressing it into her cheek. The elevator doors open, and we pull apart with a rueful start. The workers waiting to get in are careful to control their reactions, but their amusement is palpable. They avert their eyes from us. After a few moments of maintaining quiet poise, Persephone’s small hand steals into mine. I squeeze her fingers, and fail to conceal my smile.

***

I know Persephone is awake when her breathing changes pace. I’ve only been awake a few minutes, myself.

“So… the whole weekend free,” I murmur.

“No commitments,” she agrees, not opening her eyes.

“What do you want to do first?” I prop myself up on an elbow and look down at her.

“Stay in bed,” she says, her voice muffled by the pillows.

I laugh. She’s normally an early riser, energetic and cheerful right from the moment of waking. I can’t blame her for being tired, though. She’s been working very hard, and our social obligations have been considerable as well. I snuggle up and kiss her bare shoulder. “Okay, but after that?”

“No, seriously, stay in bed. I want some more sleep and when I wake up we can fool around.”

“This is why I love you, you know.”

“Nuh uh, I’m sure it’s the baklava!” She turns her head so she can grin at me.

“Okay, the baklava too. And the contrast between your strength and your caring, and your genius mind, and your _fantastic_ ass.”

She giggles as she rolls over and slides into my arms, letting her forehead nestle in the crook of my neck. “Well, I love that you have all those reasons right on tap.”

“Did you just meta-level me?”

“I did. Forgive me, Smush?”

I laugh and kiss her. I should let her rest, but I can’t help myself. She’s so willing to touch and cuddle without the necessity of escalating into sex. Our bond of affection and trust is, in some ways, even more satisfying. There have always been women willing to screw me, if only for the bragging rights of being with a king or maybe some kind of weird sinister thrill. This intimacy I feel with Persephone--it’s something completely different. Rewarding on a level that I thought was unattainable.

Persephone relaxes against my chest, but after a few minutes she sighs. “I guess I’m not going to get back to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. Was I thinking too loud?”

She laughs. “That must be it, how dare you?”

Behind Persephone, two pairs of eyes in two furry faces peer over the edge of the bed. “Don’t look now, but we’re being watched,” I whisper.

“Uh oh, is it the breakfast patrol?”

“It is. They must have heard us talking.”

“Oh well, so much for staying in bed.”

“I’ll make it up to you, little goddess. How about waffles?”

***

Persephone is sitting on the bathroom counter, naked, her arms folded, watching me with amusement. I’m shaving. It’s taking more time than usual because I’m not used to being scrutinized while I do it, particularly not by an adorably sexy goddess who happens to be my wife.

“You make funny faces,” she comments.

“So do you when you’re reading.”

“I do not!” She’s laughing, though. Her protest is just meant to keep our banter going.

“Uh huh, and when you’re doing embroidery, too.” That’s a new hobby for her. I like watching her do it, for reasons I can’t quite understand.

“Well, you talk to yourself when you’re doing a crossword.”

“And you talk in your sleep.”

Persephone nods. Probably her nymph friends told her that. “I hope it’s worth listening to.”

I grin and finish the last bit under my chin. “You’re always worth listening to, Sweetness. I’m done.”

I wipe off the remaining shaving gel and Persephone reaches out to touch my face. Her fingers caress along my cheekbone and down to my jaw. 

“Do I pass inspection?” 

She smiles. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s hardly fair for you to be this ridiculously handsome.”

Persephone has said things like that several times before, and I’m starting to lose the urge to protest. I smile instead. 

She hops down from the counter and goes over to start the water in the shower--steamy hot, just how we like it. I usually try to get my shave done while she’s busy with other things, but this time she made a point of waiting for me.

Persephone wets her hair, then turns her back to me expectantly. I begin to rub shampoo through it. It’s long today, down to the middle of her back. Washing longer hair takes more time, of course, but I don’t mind. I love doing this. While I massage my fingers on her scalp, working up a lather, Persephone washes as much of herself as she can reach while standing still for me.

“So… Hecate told me your birthday is coming up,” she says.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” I take down the hand spray and start rinsing her hair. I watch the suds drop to the floor, swirling in little pools at our feet.

Persephone turns slowly, her head tilted back to keep the shampoo out of her eyes. She begins to wash my torso. I love this daily ritual. Sometimes it’s sensual and leads to further activities, but it’s always tender and caring. “Were you even going to mention this to me?” she asks.

“Um, probably not? I honestly don’t think about it much anymore.”

“I guess that doesn’t surprise me. Does it bother you that I want to celebrate it?” 

I pause to consider. “Well, no. But I don’t want a party or anything like that. We’ve had so many of those lately. I’d rather just be with you.”

All the shampoo is rinsed out of Persephone’s hair, so I work in some conditioner. Now it’s my turn. I turn my back and she pats my ass before floating up and beginning to wash my hair. Sometimes I sit down on the seat to allow these ministrations but that’s frankly a provocative move, suggesting I want to fondle her while she’s working on my hair. I wouldn’t mind if we move on to sex, but I’m not feeling an urgent need. I just want to revel in her presence and her touch.

“So we could have dinner, then, just the two of us?” Persephone asks. She finishes my hair and I rinse it myself. We’ve learned that it’s easier if I do it.

Not that efficiency is really important--next we stand in a hug, washing one another’s backs. Given our height difference, there are faster ways to get clean, but that isn’t the point.

“Just dinner sounds great,” I tell her, rubbing her shoulders with soap. “Being with you is all I want.”

***

After we dry off and leave the bathroom, I watch Persephone carefully for cues. I have learned that she doesn't mind complying with my needs, but today I don't want to impose on her. She didn't make any advances in the shower, so I suspect she's not currently in the mood.

She wanders into the dressing room, idly looking into a drawer, but makes no effort to get dressed. I assemble some clothes but I don’t start dressing either, I just keep an eye on Persephone.

“Hey,” she says. “Wanna try out something new?”

Her voice can send tingles down my spine when saying the most ordinary things. There's something about the way she speaks, soft and vibrato, with the occasional burr that catches certain words. Hearing her speak makes me think about her mouth: lips, teeth, and tongue, all working together. When she makes even the slightest effort to pull my attention, her tone low and seductive, flowing like warm honey, I have no power to resist.

"Yes!" I reply. It doesn’t matter what it is. She could be asking about a sex thing, or food, or something about the house. Whatever it might be, I want to try it with her.

Persephone grins widely at me, understanding my tone quite well. She knows I’m a complete sucker for her, and part of why I adore her is she doesn’t use it to manipulate me. She roots around in her drawer for a minute, taking out something in a shopping bag. She turns to leave the dressing room, letting her towel slip off as she walks.

I hurry after. She drops the bag by the couch, but then goes to the bed, checking over her shoulder that I’m watching. I love it when she makes plans. There’s something about knowing that she’s been thinking about me, contemplating what she wants to do, that gets me going like nothing else.

Persephone climbs onto the bed, her lovely naked pink skin nearly glowing against the background of the black duvet. She turns slowly, letting me look, and lies down on her belly facing me, at a right angle to the edge of the bed. She smiles sweetly.

“You look like you’re not sure what to do,” she says.

I grin. “Would you like to tell me what to do?”

“I think you should drop that towel and come over here,” she says, putting a little throaty rasp in her voice. She _knows_ how that affects me.

I take a step forward, and loosen the knot holding the towel on my hips. “Oh, this towel?”

“Mm-hmm.” She laces her fingers together and rests her chin on them, then tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. I wonder what she’ll do if I don’t comply with her instructions.

“That will leave me terribly vulnerable in front of a very powerful goddess,” I say. “I’m not sure that’s a wise idea.”

“Oh, I feel sure you said something recently about learning to enjoy vulnerability.”

“That’ll teach me to open my mouth around you!”

Persephone smiles, sharp and greedy. “If you’ll come over here, _I’ll_ open my mouth.”

I take two steps forward, stopping just out of her reach. She doesn’t deign to grab for me, but she squirms sensuously against the bedcover, her motion making a soft whispering sound, a suggestion of what she might like to do with me. I fold my arms and twist my hips slightly, causing the towel to slither to the floor. My aching cock springs up from its imprisonment, demonstrating just how much I’m under Persephone’s sway.

She changes tactics immediately, her expression soft. “Please, can I give it a little kiss?” she asks, her voice pleading desperately.

How can I say no to that? “Yes,” I reply, unable to say more. I can’t make myself say how much I want that, how much I feel I don’t deserve it. 

I take another small step forward, and Persephone places her hands at the edge of the mattress, sliding out a little bit to cantilever her shoulders off the bed. Never taking her eyes from mine, she plants a wet kiss right on the tip of my cock. 

I control my breathing with difficulty. It’s not that the sensation is so much, but Persephone is wielding every tool in her considerable repertoire with delicate precision. Every nuance comes together to draw a deep response from me.

She moves back a little, making herself comfortable, and opens her eyes very wide. “I love having you in my mouth. Can I, please? Just a little?”

“Yes.” 

I don’t know where this diffidence has come from, but it’s making me sweaty and almost swamped by the strength of my response. I’m hugely aroused, and yet, hesitant to advance. Persephone waits, but I don’t move. She watches me carefully, assessing, and then places both hands on my hips and pulls me closer. I couldn’t resist her even if I wanted to.

She opens her mouth and slides forward, surrounding my cock without much direct pressure, until I’m resting on her tongue, the head of my cock against the roof of her mouth. Only now does she allow her lips to seal around me, her tongue sliding on my underside, her saliva lubricating me. I try very hard not to overreact but everything about her is incredibly exciting.

She’s keeping me lightly in her mouth, breathing around me, flicking her tongue. She keeps looking up at me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sultry. Humming a little around my cock, she grips my hip, encouraging me to move inside her mouth. Allowing me to thrust. I breathe in shallow, open-mouthed gasps, watching this. She clearly wants it. Her fingers on my flank direct my motion. With her other hand she holds the shaft, pumping up and down, while she swirls her tongue around me.

I lean forward slightly, just enough to let my hand stroke down her spine. She shudders in response, and moans softly. The vibration around my cock makes me hiss with pleasure. I let my hand hover over her round ass. I can see the gooseflesh prickling her skin, the tiny quivers of anticipation. She knows my hand is near. She knows I could touch her. When I do, she’s so sensitized she flinches and gasps, then lets my cock slip out of her mouth.

“Did I startle you?” I ask.

“No. Don’t stop.” 

I obey, moving my fingers delicately along her back, barely touching, making her twitch in response. I’m not trying to tickle, but she’s responding as if I am. She takes my cock in her mouth again, very deep, and uses her hand to demand my movement. I don’t know why thrusting in her mouth flusters me so much, but it does.

I would love to give up all control, surrender to Persephone and my own driving lust, but I’m afraid to. I could hurt her, or frighten her quite profoundly. At some level, receiving this degree of devotion from my lovely goddess makes me feel like a selfish monster. I move only in short, controlled jerks, luxuriating in the marvelous clasp of her mouth. It takes a great effort to keep my hands moving, stroking her back as she asked.

When I feel her teeth on me, her incisors scraping lightly on my shaft, her molars just touching the head--I forget to keep responding like a normal man. I freeze, my hands clutching her hips in a frenzy. I make a high-pitched startled sound and Persephone freezes, too. I pant for a moment or two, trying to analyze what I’m feeling. 

Teeth are fucking _terrifying_ and ludicrously dangerous near my precious, defenseless, sensitive organs--but it’s _Persephone._ I keep telling her she can do anything she wants with me, and I mean it every time. I also can’t deny that it feels _good._ Very, very good. The freedom of being vulnerable is exhilarating.

I control my breathing, and look down at her. She hasn’t moved, she’s just holding completely still, watching me with her eyes full of concern. “I’m okay,” I tell her. “I panicked a little but I don’t want you to stop.”

Persephone releases me very gently. “You’re sure? I’ll do whatever you want,” she says. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“I really--that is, I’d really like you to go on. If you want.”

She regards me doubtfully, but her hand moves, cupping my balls and giving me teasing strokes. Slowly she sits up and raises her free hand to my chest, until I bend down to kiss her. “I should have asked you first. I knew better. I’m so sorry, Hades!”

“No! I’m fine. I was just surprised. Please don’t feel bad, Kore. I didn’t mean to be such an idiot. I’m yours and I trust you completely.”

She nods. “I know you do, Smush. That doesn’t mean I should push you past your comfort zone without discussing it, though.”

“I don’t think you should feel bad.” I’m still frustratingly turned on. “I really don’t want to stop.”

“Okay. Let’s move to the couch now.” 

Persephone hops up and walks over to the couch I bought a couple months ago specifically to facilitate sex. I follow eagerly, relieved that I haven’t ruined her enthusiasm. She lies down on her back, her head and shoulders draped over the top of the taller bump. Her chin is pointing at the ceiling and her damp hair falls all the way to the floor.

“Come here, lover,” she purrs, looking at me upside down.

I obey, feeling arousal thump in my blood. She has something very specific in mind, I’m sure of it. I move to the head of the couch, heeding the beckoning of her hands. She grips my hips again and pulls me close, then turns her head slightly and slides her closed lips along the underside of my shaft, letting her tongue flick me now and then. Her hands encourage me to thrust again, which I do with abandon since I can’t hurt her like this. 

Persephone concentrates her tongue’s action just under the head of my cock, stroking and slurping at the ridge there. I gasp, trying to control my soaring lust. Meanwhile her hands are exploring everywhere, one massaging the base of my cock and my balls, the other stealing around to grip my ass. 

I can’t imagine she’s very comfortable like this but after a couple minutes I learn why she chose to adopt this position. She takes me into her mouth again, adjusting my stance with her hands, and allows me to slide very deep into her mouth. There’s no question of my trying to thrust. I hold perfectly still and let Persephone be in control. I try not to even twitch.

She’s very careful to keep her teeth away from me. All I can feel is the hot, silky grasp of her tongue and lips, and then, as she relaxes and draws me in further, the tight enclosure of her throat. Holy _fuck,_ her throat. I always thought this was a myth, but she’s really doing it!

I don’t make a sound beyond my ragged breathing. I don’t want her to think I’m in distress again. I don’t want to do _anything_ to interrupt this. My eyes wander over Persphone's gorgeous body, arched over the couch's hump. Her breasts in particular are shown to their advantage, but I also notice how she's bracing her feet on the lower hump, keeping herself in position.

After a minute or two of both of us adjusting to this new thing, Persephone begins to move her head. I thought it couldn't get any more intense but I was totally wrong--she lets my cock slide out to the tip, tugs lightly on my foreskin, then takes me all the way in until her lips rest at the base. I have never seen anything this enthralling in my life. I emit some sort of noise, a whimper or a shriek, I don't know. 

Persephone moans in response and the sensation is more than I can bear. 

“Ohhhh… oh, _fuck_ , Kore, I think I'm going to faint!”

I feel high: dizzy and hyper-focused. I move my arms very slowly and put my hands down on the head of the sofa on either side of her shoulders, bracing my weight so I don’t fall. All the blood is rushing from my head and the surge of nearly-painful anticipation is building and building.

Her intense focus, her total trust in me and mine in her, is completely disarming. I have no resistance. I am helplessly enraptured, Persephone's willing slave. Her tongue laps against my cock and she swallows around me, further constricting the fit.

“Oh, oh _fuck,_ how are you even doing that! Don’t stop, whatever you’re doing don’t stop!” 

My hand forms into a fist and I bang it into the couch repeatedly. I start to come, shaking and helpless and incoherent. My muscles contract in painfully tight knots as spasms of pleasure ricochet through my body, rattling my limbs, driving sweat from my pores, seizing my breath in my lungs. I feel tears slipping from my eyes.

“I love you! I love you so much, Kore!” I yell. 

Some part of me is shocked that I remember how to form words, but the truth of it resounds in every fiber of my being. When Persephone finally releases me I'm trembling violently and can't focus my eyes.

“Are you all right?” Her voice is raspier than normal, but her tone is mild. Gently concerned, loving and teasing.

“Ngghuh,” is all I can do.

I just about collapse into the valley of the couch, sweaty, quivering, and exhausted. Persephone makes room for me, lifting her legs over mine and tucking herself against my shoulder. I ought to be thinking about her needs now, but I can’t concentrate. I just need to shut my eyes for a minute.

***

When I wake up Persephone is curled next to me, propped up on one elbow, watching me with an expression of tolerant amusement. There’s barely enough room on this oddly-shaped piece of furniture for us to recline together.

“Oh, you’re back,” she says.

“Sorry.” I swallow and blink a few times. “Did I sleep for a long time?”

“You conked right out for about half an hour,” she says. “I guess you did say you were going to faint, but when you didn’t right away I figured it was a false alarm.”

I try for a smile. I still feel like my muscles aren’t completely under my control, but I think I get it mostly right. “It would probably be crude to say you sucked all the energy right out of me.”

Persephone smirks. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“No, but _damn,_ woman. Can you warn me next time before you gain a whole new level of skills? What have you been reading this time?”

She laughs, relaxed and joyful. “I like surprising you.”

“Well, you did. That was amazing. I don’t--I--that is…”

“What is it, Smush? Tell me.”

I take a slow breath. “I’ve just never felt so… cherished. Never in my life.”

She kisses me, and smiles in satisfaction. “Well, I do cherish you. You’d better get used to it.”

I take a slow, deep breath. "I have something to confess to you. I should have told you a long time ago."

Her eyes are full of empathy but she doesn’t say anything, she just waits.

“I… Before you I’ve never let anyone do oral on me.” I swallow nervously. “It was tempting but just a little too far for me. Too scary. It… reminded me of things I wanted to forget, you know? I’m sorry! I should have told you.”

She nods, slowly, as if several puzzle pieces just clicked together. “It would have been good to know that, but I do understand how hard it is to talk about trauma.”

“You’re not upset with me?”

“Of course not! I’m deeply touched that you trusted me, right from the beginning.”

“I couldn’t do otherwise, not when you trusted _me,_ ” I reply. I feel like a weight has been lifted from me. Vulnerability with Persephone is fulfilling in _so many_ ways!

I pull her close and kiss all over her face, even while she giggles and tries to kiss me back. I’m elated. Buoyant with joy and relief. “I was very, very selfish. I’m quite prepared to make up for it now, if you’re amenable,” I say.

“You weren’t selfish. You indulged me.”

“Oh, that was _me_ indulging _you_? Well then, ma’am, would you please indulge me now?”

She grins. “Yes, I will. I have something in mind. Unless you’re too depleted?”

“Never! Well, okay, not never, but I had a nap and I’m good for anything you want, now.”

Persephone chuckles and disentangles herself, getting up to fetch the bag she dropped on the floor a while ago. She opens it up and takes out an appliance that after a moment I recognize as the vibrator that Eros gave her. She blushed so hard when she showed it to me after the party, I was almost sure I wouldn’t be seeing it again for a long time. 

Guess I underestimated her sexual curiosity, again! Persephone plugs it into the wall and then sits down next to me. “I don’t really know what I want to do with this,” she says. “But people talk about them like they’re the best thing ever invented.” She looks at the device and shivers delicately.

“May I?”

She nods and gives it to me. I get a feel for it. It’s weighty, and comfortable to grip, giving promise to being an effective tool. I set it down for a moment and arrange Persephone comfortably on the couch. She reclines against the taller hump, and I straddle the couch with my back to the smaller. I lift her legs over mine and rest them on my thighs, dangling down. My feet rest firmly on the floor. It’s a position we’ve tried before with great success, perfect for slow lovemaking and leaving our hands free for touching.

I pick up the vibrator again, resting it on her belly with the head between her breasts. 

She’s splayed open, and I enjoy a good, long look. My sweet and lovely Persephone. She smiles at me, equal parts sultry and amused.

“I know you’ve been very patient, Sweetness.” 

I begin stroking my fingers from her shoulders, trailing down her arms, all the way down. When I reach her fingers she laces hers with mine, then leans forward for a kiss. “You’re right. Gonna make it worth my while?”

“I will do my best, little goddess.”

“Good. I don’t want to wait any more. I want to know how this thing works.”

“Okay.” 

The switch to control it seems to allow for multiple speeds. I push it one click and the device begins to hum softly. I let the bulbous head rest between Persephone’s breasts, and she lifts one hand to touch it.

“Interesting.”

“Not going to do you a lot of good there, I suppose.” 

I apply the toy to one nipple and she giggles, so I lean forward and take her other nipple in my mouth. While I suck she kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. “Hades. I love you, but I am _seriously_ horny right now.”

“Ah. Not in the mood for my slowpokery today?”

“Mm, if there was _actual_ poking involved…”

I laugh. I am very willing, but not fully erect yet. “It’s going to take me some time to recover. How fortunate that we have other means.”

I lean back and place the vibrating head on Persephone’s inner thigh, making her jerk slightly. “Ooh!” she squeaks.

“Too much?”

“No, it’s just different.” 

I slide my hand slowly up her left thigh, massaging and tracing little circles, while moving the vibrator up her right thigh with dabbing touches. She jumps slightly every time it touches her, becoming more reactive as it gets closer to her sex. I can see how wet she is, and her clit and labia are deeply pink and swollen. 

She’s been simmering for a very long time, I realize: since she was watching me shave. That seems more than long enough. I place the vibrator right over her clit and she gasps, then pushes it away suddenly.

“Sorry!” she says immediately. “It’s really strong!”

“Do you want to be the one to hold it?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but could you approach a little more slowly?”

“Of course.”

I place it again, lightly, just above her cleft. She moans softly and arches her back, placing her hands on my chest. “Ohhhh, yes. My. Mmm. Yes.” 

Her breathing is coming in short bursts, and she’s not even meeting my eyes, just looking off to the ceiling. I try a new spot on her outer labia, to the side of her mound. She sighs. “Oh, that’s good too.”

My hand on her thigh has reached her wet folds, so I play with the inner lips, crooking one finger so I can press my knuckle to her opening. I can smell her arousal. That and her soft sighs are affecting me deeply. I adjust my position so my swelling cock rests on Persephone’s thigh. 

She notices this immediately, and trails her hand down to cup me gently. “Are you very sensitive right now?” she asks, a touch breathless.

“I’m fine. You’re very inspiring, you know.” 

I let my finger slip inside her, then push another in as well. Persephone gasps, and I move the vibrator a bit closer to her clit. “Oh, so are you!” she yells, losing control of her volume. 

I rotate my hand palm-upward and hook my fingers, stroking her inner walls and watching her bite her lip and roll her eyes in response. She’s starting to get a little flushed. I notice that she can’t keep control of her hands--she lets my cock go, which is fine with me. This should be about her.

I move the vibrator one more time, just a finger’s width from her clit. She wails. “Oh! That’s--oh!”

“You are _so_ sexy, Persephone. I love watching you lose control like this.”

I place my thumb on her clit and then the vibrator over it. Persephone’s eyes go huge and she squeals loudly. Her inner walls clamp around my fingers and I feel fluids gush into my palm as she shudders. 

“I love you! I love you Hades, I love you so much!”

“I love you too, Sweetness. Come for me, just like that!” I press my thumb in circles, letting the vibrator do most of the work. It seems to do the job, as she convulses and then grabs the toy, pulling it away.

“I need a pause,” she gasps. 

“Do you want to stop?”

“No! I just need to breathe for a minute.”

I smile in satisfaction, holding the vibrator well away from her, but not turning it off. I would happily do whatever she wants, but it delights me that she isn’t satiated yet.

Persephone closes her eyes for a moment, breathing deep, and then smiles at me. “I really want you.”

“I want you, too.” It’s the truth. Even after the exceptional orgasm she gave me earlier, I’m eager to be inside her. I adore the closeness with her.

“Now, please?”

I nod, and lift her slightly up the incline of the couch, then tilt my hips until my cock rests between her thighs. She sighs in happiness and lifts up slightly, her feet braced behind me on the smaller hump. I adjust my aim properly and slide up into her, her slick embrace welcoming me with pulses of heat.

“Oh,” she sighs. “Yes, oh, this is the _best._ ”

I grin, pleased that she prefers me to tireless electrical appliances. I denied being sensitive, but I am, a bit. I’m glad that in this position I can’t do vigorous motions. I place the vibrator on Persephone’s mound, watching her reaction carefully. I don’t want to overdo it again.

“Good?”

“Mmmm,” she answers. She raises her arms over her head and lets herself relax into the couch. 

I adjust the position and begin moving slowly inside her. Persephone’s eyes are open, but she’s not looking at me. She blinks lazily every so often and her lips are slightly curved. I keep trying different spots for the vibrator, gauging her response. I learn that if I build up to it, I can place the head right on her clit and she can tolerate it. After a while of this, I remember that the device actually has multiple speed settings, so I turn it up a notch.

Persephone’s eyes get huge but she gives no further reaction, not at first. I angle the vibrator to the side, and suddenly she’s frantic. She waves her hands wildly, flailing in the air, grasping at nothing. She breathes in short, wheezy bursts, her eyes staring at nothing. Her skin is clammy and cool, and her leg is twitching in time with my thrusts. I can feel the vibrations through her body. It’s an intriguing sensation, but obviously not doing for me what it is for her.

I turn it down a notch and she immediately begins to breathe deeper, her shoulders relaxing, eyes focusing on me. “You okay?”

“Uh huh. Thanks, I needed the break.”

“Do you want to be in charge of the speed?”

“No, I like what you’re doing. You push harder than I could do to myself.”

“You make it sound like torture!”

“It is, a little. It's _very_ intense.”

“But you like it?”

She nods repeatedly, and a big, silly grin spreads over her face.

“I see. So if I kept pushing you--not stopping. Not slowing down. No mercy. You’d like that?”

Persephone gazes at me for a long moment, then swallows visibly. “Yes. I would.”

“Well, all right then.” 

I lean forward so I can thrust more easily, and turn the vibrator up, two notches this time. Persephone’s gasp is sharp in my ears, but she doesn’t make another sound. Her hands grip my shoulders tight and she watches me, though I don’t actually think she can see anything. She’s lost in sensation. I kiss her lips and she responds perfunctorily at first, then melting, opening, accepting everything. 

She moans into my mouth and I wrap my free arm around her, pressing close, sandwiching the vibrator between us. It rumbles against my belly, affecting my entire groin, and I understand suddenly. I grind against my beautiful, sexy wife, pouring all my adoration into her.

When she comes, she howls, and her entire sheath pulses around me. I thought I wouldn’t be able to come again today, but it turns out I was wrong.

***

By the time we have lunch on Sunday, I suspect Persephone is getting antsy. We agreed that for the weekend we would only check our phones twice a day for emergency messages, and she seems like she’s feeling the lack of connection.

“Do you want to get caught up on news from the Mortal Realm?” I ask her.

Persephone looks startled. “No, I don’t want to mess up our weekend. We agreed, this is just for us.”

We’re sitting together at the countertop, eating our sandwiches, deliberately letting our knees rub together. I watch while Persephone nibbles on a pickle. She loves salty things, nearly as much as sweet ones.

“I really wouldn’t mind if you want to check the news,” I say. I nudge her leg a bit to emphasize my words.

“No, I--if I get started on that, I’m probably not going to stop. But I was thinking, I’ll probably spend tomorrow working there. Doing some healing, that sort of thing.”

“Okay. I’ll miss you.”

She smiles. “I’ll miss you, too, but then we’ll have the fun of a reunion.”

“I like the way you think, little goddess.”

We finish up lunch in companionable silence. “Do you want to watch more movies now, or something else? Go swimming, maybe?”

“Well, I know it’s supposed to be our fun weekend but I was thinking maybe we should start packing,” she replies. She sounds like she’s trying to force herself to be responsible, when she doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry, Sweetness. I know you’re sad about moving.”

“It’s okay. It makes sense to move out to let them get the renovations done faster. And it wouldn’t be a lot of fun living in a construction site. No privacy.”

“What will you miss most? The pool?”

She shrugs. “I like the pool, but I like the whole house. It's just… home.”

“I love that you feel that way.” 

“I know. I'm sorry I'm not good at saying what I want.”

“If anything, I should apologize for rushing you. You're happy with the design, though?”

“Yes, very. And moving downtown will be fine, too. It'll be an adventure, right?”

“Right.”

“Wherever you are… that's my real home.”

I smile and pull her into my arms for a kiss.

***

We decide to compromise, and spend a couple of hours packing before getting back to recreation. The packing ought to be simple. What do we need beyond a few books, clothes, and personal items? I arranged that the things we don’t need will be packed and stored by professional movers. If it were just me, I would probably do all the packing myself, but I know that Persephone will never consent to let me work alone, and she has enough to do already.

As it is, working with her is its own compensation. We fill boxes in the library for an hour or so, but keep getting distracted with reading the books. “Oh, I want to read this one!” Persephone exclaims, pulling a large tome off the shelf. 

“You’re welcome to it, Sweetness, but you’re already bringing three boxes. How many books do you really need for a couple months?”

“Oh… I know you’re right, but I’ve always wanted to read this.”

It’s a collection of ancient legends, quite a rare book these days. I can remember enjoying it greatly. “Well, then, bring it. What’s the harm?”

She smiles and adds the book to a box, then moves back toward the shelves. I’m watching and wondering if she’ll be amenable to a little distraction when the doorbell rings.

I grumble to myself as I go to answer it. This had better not be one of my brothers. I’ve been discussing with my therapist that I don’t want to be such a doormat with them, particularly Zeus. I march to up the door prepared to be as firm as necessary. I swing the door open to find my niece Eileithyia standing there.

“Oh, hello. Were we expecting you?” She has been spending a lot of time with Persephone, and they’re becoming good friends. 

“Hi… no, sorry,” she replies. “I was hoping I could talk to both of you guys. Is Persephone home?”

“Yes, of course, come in.”

I lead my niece back to the library, where we find Persephone perusing a novel. She looks up guiltily, and tucks the book back into a box. 

“Oh, Eileithyia, is everything okay?” she cries, crossing over to the other goddess. She takes my niece’s hands and looks at her with concern.

“Yeah, don’t worry, it’s not about the Mortal Realm. Nothing new there.”

“Come sit down,” I say, gesturing to one of the leather sofas. 

She drops down in the corner of one, and Persephone and I sit together opposite. Persephone is right, Eileithyia does look dejected. I wait to see what she has to say.

“So, I wonder if you guys have heard about this idea of my Dad’s?”

I exchange a quick glance with Persephone. She mentioned to me that Hera told her of plans to get Eileithyia married.

“Yes. I guess he hasn’t given up on that?” Persephone asks.

“Nope. He’s pretty serious. Says Hermes is a great match for me.”

JP and Big John notice Eileithyia and come over to investigate her with friendly sniffing. She smiles absently and pats them, then scratches their ears.

“What does your mother say about it?” I ask.

“Oh, you know, that’s kind of weird. She didn’t say much at all.”

“She’s neutral about it?” Persephone asks. She doesn’t sound surprised.

“Yeah. You’d think she’d have strong feelings, one way or another.” Eileithyia’s hair droops over her face: purple, green, and pink streaks concealing her emotions. She continues petting the dogs and they respond with enthusiasm.

“Anyway… I decided I might as well play along, so I went home with him and gave him a trial run. And it was fun, sure, but he’s not for me. It’s not going to work.” She glances at me. “I’m sorry, Uncle Hades, is this conversation making you uncomfortable?”

“Um. Well, I wasn’t prepared. But if you want me to listen, I can do that.”

“I would appreciate it. I’m going to need all the help I can get to fight my father’s will.”

Persephone and I exchange another look. There’s a lot of pain and sympathy in her eyes.

“Of course we’ll help all we can,” Persephone says. “Parents don’t always know what’s best for us, do they?”

“Not in this case,” my niece sighs. 

***

First thing Monday morning Persephone goes to the Mortal Realm with the Furies, to heal some mortals and check on arrangements for food supplies. I miss her all day. On the way home I pick up some takeout from a place I know she likes.

I hoped to find her already waiting at home, but I knew that was wishful thinking. She’s a hard worker under normal circumstances, and much more so under the weight of guilt. I send a couple of texts, although I’m not sure if she’ll see them. I encouraged her to ignore my brother’s rules forbidding _technologia_ in the Mortal Realm, but I’m not sure if she listened.

I’m not concerned. The Furies could protect her from nearly anything, and she’s no slouch on her own. I feed the dogs and spend some time packing items in the kitchen. We don’t need a full complement to take with us to the apartment, but some items are essential. 

By the time I’ve filled all the available boxes, my neck is stiff and I’m starving. I check the time. It’s getting late. It’ll be well past dark in the Mortal Realm, what can Persephone still be doing? She needs to remember to take care of herself, too. I check my phone. No reply to my texts.

I wonder what’s the quickest way to reach her. Probably Alecto has her phone, I should text her. I’m just composing a message when the dogs suddenly become alert, running out to the hall with joyful barks.

“Hello, pack,” says Persephone’s voice. 

I round the corner and find her sitting on the floor, surrounded by the dogs. “They missed you,” I say.

She smiles wanly at me. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay, Sweetness.” I crouch down to hug her. Her peplos is damp, and she’s cold to the touch. “Oh, Kore! You’re freezing!”

“Yeah. The weather has gotten so much worse. There’s a lot to do.”

I sigh. “Go on up and get in the bathtub. I’ll bring you something hot.”

She nods slowly, her exhaustion obvious in her posture. “Okay. I will.”

I help her to her feet and gently steer her towards the stairs. I watch her ascend, to make sure she’s well enough to walk on her own. I can see I will need to have words with the Furies about letting her overwork to this extent.

Once I’m sure Persephone can manage the climb I go back to the kitchen. I’m very glad I ordered soup. I heat that up and bring it upstairs with some bread. I find my wife in the tub as I suggested--sound asleep. 

“Oh, Sweetness,” I murmur, cupping her face. “Wake up, Kore, this isn’t a good place to sleep.”

I feel guilty that I encouraged her to get in the bath. If she’d fallen asleep anywhere else, I would just tuck her in and let her sleep.

“Mm? Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Do you want to get out? I’ll help you.”

“No, this is nice. I’m finally warm.”

The water is actually steaming. “I’ll bet you are. I brought some food.”

I balance the tray on the side of the tub, and sit down on the floor to keep it from tipping. Persephone tears off a bite of bread and nibbles it slowly.

“Did you eat already?” I ask.

“No. I’m just exhausted.”

I watch her for a minute. “You must have healed a lot of people.”

“Yeah. There’s so many. They don’t have anyone else, and the cold is making them sicker.”

I’m willing to bet that she’s a lot more conscientious about the mortal population than any other god is or ever was, but I don’t mention it. “Would you like some soup? It’s lentil.”

“Okay.” She picks up the spoon and tries some. “Oh, that’s good.”

Displaying the first hint of energy I’ve seen since she got home, Persephone scoops up the bowl and rapidly devours the contents. When she’s done she seems to have worn herself out. 

“Do you want some more?”

“No, thanks. I need to get to bed.”

She climbs out slowly and I fetch a towel for her. I wrap her up in it and she leans on me as I rub her dry. I think she’s wiped out, so I pick her up and carry her straight to bed.

Persephone sighs deeply as I set her down. She reaches up and cups my cheek, then traces my jaw and my nose. I hold still and let her. “Can you snuggle with me?” she asks. “I just want to touch you, and be held. I can’t promise more tonight.”

“Of course." I shuck my clothes and leave them on the floor to be dealt with in the morning. Holding Persephone is much more important.

***

Persephone gets up early and insists on going into the office. I’d much rather she slept late, but there’s no convincing her.

Once at work, she throws herself into her tasks, determined to make up for what she missed. I watch this for a while. She’s trying to do two full-time jobs at once and it’s going to wreck her.

I check on a few information sources of my own. Weather reports from the Mortal Realm, reports on food supplies, analysis of the rumors going around. There’s already a slight uptick in the death rate, and I can only imagine it’s going to get worse. Much as Persephone is trying to focus on her job as Queen of the Underworld, I know very well that her sense of responsibility is going to draw her back to the living world very soon.

“Kore,” I say, waiting for her attention. She looks up at me, faintly startled. “You know you’re working too hard? This is more than one being can do. Please, won’t you let me help?”

Persephone bites her lip, her face the picture of remorse. “I’m sorry I keep worrying about the Mortal Realm. I’m neglecting you and my job, and I feel terrible about it!”

“Sweetness, it’s fine. We can delegate things here, as much as necessary. The only thing that upsets me is that you’re too hard on yourself. You can go to the Mortal Realm every day, just please take better care. You need to eat, and stay warm and dry, and rest appropriately.”

She nods, sniffling back her tears. “Thank you. I should have known you would understand.”

“Not only do I understand your feeling of obligation, it’s the proper thing to do, and it’s in our marriage contract. You have every right to spend as much time in the Mortal Realm as you want. What kind of asshole would I be if I tried to stop you?”

“I don’t know. I just think you have a right to have your wife around, too.”

I shrug. “And you have a right to have your husband around. Can I come along when you go again?”

“Oh… you would do that? I thought you would need to stay to take care of things here.”

“What are we paying all these people for, if not to work for us? There’s very little they can’t do.”

A tiny smile crosses her face, a shadow of her normal good cheer. “I have a feeling that a lot of people who know you would be shocked to hear you say that.”

I grin back. “You’re probably right.”

We agree to spend the day getting as much done in the Underworld as possible, and arranging delegation with Hecate. Nobody is completely happy about this, but it’s the right choice. After all, if too many mortals die, the Underworld will be flooded with incoming shades. That’s not good for anyone concerned.

***

The next morning Persephone is up even earlier, and I rise with her. I insist this time that she puts on boots and a thick, warm cloak. I put on my own thick cloak, as well. The cold doesn’t bother me much but I’ve no desire to get rained on.

We transfer together to a broad, flat hilltop in the Thriasian Plain. The day is crisp and cold, the dawn soft and golden, but it’s not raining at the moment. The sky is blue and studded with high, wispy clouds. The forests we can see from here are turning odd colors: bright orange, red, and yellow. 

“Why do the trees look like that?” I ask.

“The leaves are dying,” Persephone replies, her voice heavy and sad. “As far as I can tell, the trees themselves are going into some kind of dormant state. I’ve tried to wake them up, but it doesn’t really work. After a little while they go right back to this.”

“Oh. Is it weird to say that it’s really beautiful?”

She shrugs. “No, you’re right. I just hope when Spring comes I can bring them back.”

“I’m certain you can. You’re the goddess that made Tartarus bloom.”

Persephone gasps softly, looking up at me. “Oh, that’s true. I never connected that! I’ve been so worried that everything was going to die.”

“What is death, to you? Just a temporary inconvenience.” I smile at her relief.

Persephone wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight. We stand together, swaying gently, looking over the countryside around us. It’s truly lovely. The hill is tall enough to give a commanding view. There are vineyards occupying the gentle slopes in the middle distance, and the mountains on the horizon are shrouded in mist. A rocky cleft just below us shelters a burbling spring of water.

Near us on the hilltop are a group of beings: a mix of nymphs, satyrs, and mortals, I think. They have some large tents set up, and it’s apparent that some of them are being cared for while others are doing the caring. I spot the Furies at the largest tent, handing out bags to a line of mortals. Psyche, Eileithyia, and Artemis are moving amongst the mortals, pausing now and then to speak to one.

“I like the location you chose,” I say.

“It is pretty, isn’t it? Really we chose it because it’s central, but the nice view doesn’t hurt.”

I turn to the South and see the sun sparkling on the Ocean, a wide bay dotted with islands. I identify it from various landmarks: the Saronic Gulf, and the nearest island is Inoni. I point to the highest mountain on the island, just visible in the distant haze. “That’s Mount Oros,” I tell Persephone. “It’s an extinct volcano. Zeus has a temple there.”

“He favors mountaintops, I guess?” 

“Yes, of course. Anything to maximize inconvenience for others.”

Persephone laughs and takes my hand. We go join the others in helping.

***

“Psyche, do you have a task that Hades can do?” Persephone asks as we approach the main tent.

“Preferably away from mortals,” I say. “I frighten them.”

Psyche smiles gently. She finds this attitude incomprehensible. I’ve tried to explain that she was a very unusual mortal, but she just rolls her eyes at me when I say so.

“Yes, you could coordinate the beings who are coming to help. That would free me up to try some healing.”

“Oh, you’re healing people now?” I ask.

“A little. Persephone and Eileithyia are helping me.”

“She’s doing _very_ well. I wish I developed my powers that fast,” Persephone says, smiling. She kisses my cheek and goes off to get to work.

Psyche hands me a clipboard and pen, and explains the system. My job is telling people what to do, which I have to admit I’m good at. I assign a young satyr to be my assistant for the day, rounding up immortal beings as they arrive to come get an assignment.

I quickly fall into a rhythm. I put each new volunteer through a short interview, finding out their skills, and send them to a particular task: healing and supporting the healed, hauling and distributing food, or going to Elysium to assist with the growing efforts there.

“Name?” I ask the next being, not even looking up from my clipboard.

“Please, what is going on here?” asks the newcomer. He’s a minor god, pale violet in color, slight in stature, and long-haired. He’s wearing a wreath of myrtle leaves on his head.

“We’re feeding and healing the mortals who are suffering due to the bad weather,” I explain. “Do you want to help?”

I feel a touch on my back and turn to see Persephone. She’s holding a couple pieces of fruit and a flask of water. It looks like she took to heart my urging her to take breaks, and wants to talk to me for a few minutes.

The godling I was speaking with gasps loudly upon seeing her and throws himself to his knees. “Radiant one, I would serve you!”

“What!” Persephone cries, flinching back. 

I slip my arm around her shoulder and glare at the newcomer. “Who are you?” I snap.

He gives me the briefest of glances. I guess he knows who I am. “I am called Iakchos. I’m a fertility god,” he replies.

“I’ve never heard of you,” Persephone says. Neither have I, but I’m not surprised. There are an awful lot of minor gods with domains as small as a single village.

“No, goddess,” the godling says. “I am nothing compared to you! I’m just a rustic deity, worshipped by a few villages out here in the sticks.”

“What of it? I don’t have many worshippers, either.”

“Perhaps not yet, but anyone can see that you will. The mortals are fascinated with your story.”

Persephone scowls. “That pack of lies my mother’s telling? I have little respect for them, if that’s so.”

“That, but also, this news that your priestesses are spreading, that there is a paradise in the afterlife. That idea is spreading like wildfire.” He looks at me, bold and terrified at the same time. “Is it true?”

“It’s true,” I tell him. “Persephone is the Queen of the Underworld. Her power in our realm is undoubted.”

My wife’s expression gentles momentarily as she glances at me. She looks back at Iakchos with less pleasure. “What do you want from me?”

“Your holy mother would not even deign to look upon me, great goddess,” He reaches out as if to touch the hem of her peplos, but then draws back his trembling hand. “The Earth is reeling under her influence. I feel it, with every breath I take. I don’t know what to do!”

There’s a sudden _fizz_ and _pop_ , and the Furies are here with us, arrayed behind the kneeling god. Their arms are folded and they wear expressions of sardonic amusement.

“One who seeks to serve our Mistress?” Tisiphone says. “What makes you think you’re worthy?”

“Praxidike, if you’ll forgive the presumption, we can give this one a good working-over,” Alecto says.

Persephone frowns. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. He doesn’t deserve a beating just for talking to me.”

Megaera steps forward. “Oh no, not that. We’ll just have a nice... _interview_ with him. Talk about his motivations.”

“If this is what it takes to serve you, I submit myself gladly,” Iakchos says.

Persephone pauses to think. She shakes her head. “If you want to serve me, then I have a task for you. This story my mother is spreading, that Hades stole me away?”

The godling nods cautiously. His eyes don’t leave hers.

“It offends me. The stench of it incites my wrath. I want it eradicated.” Her voice rings like the clash of swords on shields, and I feel a deeply pleasant tingle of pride.

“I will do my utmost, lady!” he cries fervently.

She nods. “This is your test, then. My sisters, you may watch him and render aid as necessary.”

Alecto smirks slightly. “As you say, Praxidike.”

“And introduce him to Eunelia. I think that they could work well together.”

We walk away, holding hands tightly. Persephone is quivering slightly with emotion. I let her process the recent encounter, and wait until she has something to say. We sit down together on the rocks by the spring and she hands me an apple. She starts to break open a pomegranate with her thumbs, keeping it away from her skirt so as not to stain it.

“Why is this weird guy trying to suck up to me? Why now? It seems very odd,” she blurts.

“It's not unusual for minor gods to feel a pull towards a more powerful god with similar aspects. They want to gather together, pool their power with someone who can be more effective,” I explain. I bite the apple and watch her.

“Oh.” I can see the speculation in her face, and the reluctance to brag about it. She plucks arils from the fruit and begins to munch them pensively.

“So yes, that means that your power is becoming more obvious to others. They’re drawn to you.”

Persephone looks up at me, studying my face carefully. “Are you drawn to me?”

“You know I am. Constantly. You’re irresistible, I told you.” I smile just a little, letting her interpret that however she wants.

She stays serious for a long moment, and then a big smile lights her face. “I don’t want you to resist.” She holds out a seed and I let her feed it to me. It’s tart and juicy on my tongue.

I want to bubble over with laughter, but I tamp it down. “I can be very obedient, if you wish.”

I know I’m pushing. Persephone is only occasionally in the mood to be “in charge,” as she puts it. Most often she likes to just be in the moment with me, in the smooth, fluid give-and-take we seem to be adopting as our main mode of relating. It’s the most beautiful aspect of the most wonderful relationship I’ve ever had. 

“Maybe later, Smush. I’ve got a bunch more to get done today.” Her tone is apologetic.

“I know. I appreciate what you were trying to do back there, but really, it doesn’t matter to me what mortals think.”

“It matters to me!” Her tone bristles with ferocity. 

“I know it does, Sweetness.” I wish it didn’t. It’s not worth breaking her heart over. We know the truth, even if others embrace the lies.

***

Over the course of the morning, a steady stream of mortals show up to help, in addition to all the immortal beings. They all seem to be locals, deeply curious about the goings-on not far from their settlement. I promise them that their needs will be met over the course of the bad weather, and in turn, they offer enthusiastic assistance. I give them the task of housing the healed mortals who aren’t yet ready to be sent home.

One of these people turns out to be a familiar face. I look up from my clipboard, and recognize Persephone’s priestess. She recognizes me too, and drops to her knees immediately.

“Hello, Eunelia. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” I say.

“Great lord! You honor me by remembering my name.”

“You are Persephone’s priestess, of course I remember. I suppose I should say, her high priestess? I hear there are more now.”

“Yes, lord. I have appointed others, subject to my Mistress’s approval.”

“I’m sure she’ll be pleased. You’ll find her in the large tent. She’s been healing people.”

The priestess’s eyes widen. “I did not know her skills included healing.”

“She is young yet, and still discovering her abilities.”

Eunelia manages to look both smug and awed at the same time. “I have chosen the most magnificent of goddesses as my patroness. Is it presumptuous of me to offer my congratulations upon your marriage?”

“Not in the least,” I assure her. It’s my turn to feel smug. “I too have chosen the most magnificent of goddesses.” We exchange warm smiles. “Come, rise, she’ll want to see you.”

I send the priestess off and return to my task. At midday, Eros shows up with bags of food and everyone knocks off working. We all sit around on the rocks by the spring, munching sandwiches and chatting. Persephone is leaning against me, occupying one of my arms. It makes eating a bit challenging, but I don’t mind.

The Furies took their lunches and went elsewhere, so everyone here but me is on the young side. My wife, Eros and Psyche, Eileithyia, Hermes, and Artemis. I’m not sure exactly when Hermes showed up and what he’s been doing, but the others all accept him so I don’t complain.

I watch the interaction between him and my niece. They seem to be on friendly terms, but it’s true that there doesn’t seem to be a spark between them. Having found that for myself, I would hope that other people contemplating marriage would have it too. I resolve to speak to Zeus when next I see him.

“Hey up there! Is my sister among you?” calls a voice. 

All of us turn to look down the hill, where there’s a slim silvery-green god standing, shading his eyes and gazing up at our group.

“Arion! Oh, it’s so good to see you!” Persephone leaps up and trots down the hill, running to her brother and hugging him. 

I tuck away the last scraps of our lunch and get up to follow her.

“That’s her brother?” Artemis asks.

“Yes. He looks more like Poseidon than Demeter.” 

The others watch with great curiosity, but have the courtesy to leave us be. Arion gives me a sidelong smile as I approach, and I pat him on the shoulder. 

“Hello, Uncle. Or maybe I should say Brother-in-law.” 

“How are you?”

“I’m well, thanks.” His eyes slip away from mine, and I don’t try to push it. I know too much interaction with others overwhelms him.

“How are the horses?” Persephone asks. “Are they going to be okay in the cold?”

“Yeah, they’re adapting. Growing thicker coats. I’m helping!” Arion fidgets nervously, and Persephone immediately picks up that cue. Having learned from past visits, she begins walking at a leisurely pace, and Arion walks beside her. I follow along, interested to hear his reason for visiting.

“That’s good. It’s nice to feel useful,” she replies.

“You’re useful too. My dad was telling me everything you’re doing to help the mortals. Nobody could do more.”

“Well, Mother could. If she wanted.”

I’m listening quietly, and neither of them seems to mind my presence, even though I’m not part of the conversation. It’s different for me to be so trusted, and yet not involved.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about this,” Arion says. “I think she feels so guilty about screwing up with me that she’ll do anything to keep you. And that’s making her screw up worse.”

Persephone tilts her head, considering. “That must hurt you, too,” she says, her voice soft. “Knowing that she’s trying so hard with me.”

He shrugs. “I honestly haven’t given her much thought in a long time. I was horrible to her when I was a kid, you know. Screamed and cried and kicked. I made a huge fuss when she came to take me back from Dad. I said some awful stuff. That must have stung.”

That explains much about Demeter, really. Being rejected by her own child must have been a terrible blow. She must feel that history is repeating itself.

“I suppose so, but she was the adult, not you,” Persephone says. “Doesn’t it seem like it was her job to stay part of your life?”

“She should have done better, but I kinda get it. Look, we were just horribly incompatible, which is pretty tragic for a parent and child, I guess.” He turns to glance at me, and I nod acknowledgement. “It’s the sort of thing that happens from time to time.”

“I think you’re more generous than I am. I don’t think I could forgive it,” says my wife. 

“Well maybe, but I’m not the one she’s trying to control. She’s at least left me to make my own choices. If I were you, I’d be plenty mad,” Arion replies.

Persephone sighs. “I am. Listen, do you think there’s any hope of her changing her mind? Because in my experience, she’s always taken her duties very seriously. I don’t understand why she’s suddenly willing to cause so much suffering.”

“I think her failure with me really weighs on her mind,” Arion says. “She doesn’t want to fail another child. Plus you’re a girl.”

“How is that relevant?”

“Because in her mind it means you need more protection,” I put in. “The protection that she never got.”

Arion nods morosely.

***

By mid-afternoon the work is slowing down, for me at least. I suppose that all the new volunteers who are going to show up today have already done so. I make the rounds through the tents, running errands and handling logistics for others as needed. Seeing me do this task startles some people, which frankly amuses me. Do they think I’m not capable of real work?

Psyche asks me to get names and some basic data from the mortals waiting to be healed, so I do that for a while. These mortals are so overwhelmed by all they’ve seen that I’m just another thing that they accept without question. They answer my questions promptly and breathe sighs of relief when I move on. 

This task at least means I can be near Persephone. She’s working at the center of the tent, healing the mortals that are brought to her after others have ascertained that their needs are serious enough to warrant her attention. I’m moving from one row of mortals to the next when I see a newcomer enter. She’s a tall, blue-green naiad. She looks around the tent and then spots Persephone, moving toward her with a happy light in her face.

“Little Kore, is that you?” the naiad says.

Persephone’s head jerks up from the mortal she’s healing. I glimpse the expression of annoyance on her face but then she catches sight of the speaker.

“Cyane? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

She hops up and crosses to the naiad, grabbing her in a hug.

“No, I got married and Demeter said I wasn’t a fit companion for you anymore. I’m so sorry! She wouldn’t even let me say goodbye.”

“Our mistress is called Persephone now,” Megaera says, her tone a mixture of firmness and sympathy.

“Oh, then it’s you I came to see!” The naiad looks delighted. “Things have changed for you, I guess?”

Persephone nods. “Yes. It’s funny that Mother threw you out for getting married, because my getting married is the reason for all this terrible weather. She’s angry about it.”

The nymph gasps. “Oh! That makes sense. She always said you were meant for eternal maidenhood. I guess you didn’t agree?”

My wife smiles, and turns to meet my eyes. “No, I didn’t agree.” She beckons me to come over, so I walk up to her and slide my hand around her waist.

“Beloved, this is my friend Cyane, naiad of the river Akesínes. Cyane, my husband Hades.”

The nymph’s eyes open wide, but she bows politely to me without further reaction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cyane. You came a very long way from Sicily,” I comment.

“Er, yes. You see, we noticed, that is, my husband Anapos and I--the plant nymphs in our region are not doing well in this weather. They’re becoming sluggish and unresponsive.”

“Oh, dear,” Persephone says. “I should have realized they’d be affected.”

“Normally I would have gone to your mother with a concern like this, but… she’s not seeing anyone. And I suppose if she’s causing it she wouldn’t do much to fix it, would she?”

“I don’t know,” Persephone replies. “Normally, she’d be the first person to leap in and help a nymph in need, but now--”

Cyane nods understanding. “Anyway, we heard there was another goddess on the mainland helping people, so I came to see.”

“I’m not sure what I can do for them. No one knows what my mother’s done to the weather, so fixing it is difficult. It isn’t even close to Spring yet, so I can’t do much. I’ve been concentrating on getting food and medicine to the mortals.”

“Why don’t you bring the dryads and flower nymphs into Elysium?” I suggest. “Their plants may still be affected by the weather, but at least they’ll be safe there.”

Persephone nods thoughtfully. “That’s a great idea! There’s plenty of room for them.”

“What is Elysium?” Cyane asks.

Persephone hesitates, unwilling to brag, but the faithful Furies are delighted to do it for her. 

“Our Mistress has created a paradise in the Underworld,” Megaera says.

“Full of beauty and warmth. A place for mortal shades to spend eternity, if they are worthy,” Tisiphone puts in.

“Not that many are,” Alecto smirks. “You can usually rely on mortals to screw it up.”

“Oh, that’s so interesting,” Cyane says. She looks at me with open speculation, then seems to put that topic aside. “I’m curious, do you still have the stone I gave you?”

Persephone looks up at me, so I dig into the pouch under my chiton and take out Ione’s Eye, which I carry with me everywhere. “This stone?”

“It’s my good luck charm,” Persephone tells the naiad. “So my beloved carries it for me.”

I smile at the look on her face. “I have had the best luck of my life since it’s been in my possession.”

“Me too,” Persephone replies.

“Oh,” Cyane replies, faintly surprised. “I’m delighted, then.”

Cyane comes with me back to the more logistical side of the camp so I can help her make arrangements for bringing nymphs to Elysium.

“So you’re the one who gave Persephone the stone?” I ask.

“Um, yes. It seemed appropriate that she should have it.”

“It certainly is. Tell me, did you have any ulterior motives in giving a fertility talisman to a fertility goddess?”

“To a fertility goddess whose mother was in deep denial? Of course I did. I thought it was wrong of Demeter to try to suppress Kore’s nature.” She watches me with a touch of apprehension, but I have no problem with her bluntness. I’m just as glad that she’s not trying to dissemble.

“It was, I have to agree,” I reply.

“So… is she happy? Because even though I wanted her to embrace her nature, I have to admit I didn’t quite envision… you.”

“I do my very best to make her happy, but you’ll need to be the judge of that.”

The naiad nods slowly. “She does seem to be, aside from issues with her mom. I didn’t mean to insult you, I just don’t think anyone could have set their sights so high.”

“I’m not insulted, and it’s not necessary to flatter me. I’m just trying to ascertain whether you have Persephone’s best interests at heart.”

She blinks in amazement. “I’d like to think so. And I’m pleased to see that you seem to, as well.”

***

Persephone and I work out a new mode for our days. We go into the office early every morning, and she checks in on her projects. She goes off to the Mortal Realm after an hour or two, and I stay on in the office getting work done. When necessary, I send Epimelis or Kynora with a message for her, or papers that need signing.

At lunchtime I bring some food and go eat with her. My presence means that at least she’ll stop once a day and sit down to rest for a while. Then, depending on what’s happening, I either stay with her for the afternoon, assisting as I’m able, or go back to the Underworld to do more work there.

On one such day there aren’t many tasks for me, just a lot of mortals who need healing. I decide I’m going to check on a side project. I send a quick text and receive a reply almost immediately. It seems my brother is thinking along similar lines today.

I transfer to a location in the Mortal Realm and find Poseidon standing on a dock, arms folded, looking out over the water. The day is overcast and cold, but the Sea is as smooth as glass.

“Hey,” I say. “Good to see you.”

“You too, man. I’ve got a fishing fleet on their way in with a full load.” 

He gestures and I look. Sure enough, I spot a number of boats approaching from across the bay.

“Excellent. Persephone will be delighted.”

“Yeah, she’s finally gonna try fish?”

I chuckle. “Not likely, but anything that helps the mortals pleases her.”

He nods. “And it doesn’t hurt having their gratitude. I do like that sweet, sweet worship.”

“I’m sure.” I have no idea what to say to that. I don’t know what worship is like, and I never have.

We stand together for a while, chatting about inconsequential things, while we watch the ships come into harbor. The sailors spot us and appear to be alarmed. I suppose they may have experienced my brother before, but I’m another thing entirely.

“Good fortune today?” Poseidon calls to a tall mortal in the bow of the biggest ship as it pulls up to the dock.

“Indeed, great one. We are most grateful to you.”

The tall mortal climbs down and bows to us. He looks vaguely familiar but I can’t place him.

“Hades, you remember Peleus? He was at the wedding a few weeks ago. He’s the king hereabouts,” Poseidon says. Only he would introduce me to a mortal so casually.

The mortal king bows stiffly. “I am honored by your presence.”

I nod acknowledgement. I shouldn’t have come here. The mortals who are flocking to see my wife treat me with such diffidence that I allowed myself to forget that most of the living hate and fear me.

I move shorewards and wait for Poseidon to conclude his business. The mortal crews disembark and my brother begins giving them detailed instructions for the preservation and distribution of their catch. Apparently a team of his people are on their way to pick it up. My attention wanders and I notice movement on shore. A goddess stands there, dressed in a shining peplos and crown, gazing at me with a discontented expression.

I leave the dock and go over to speak to her.

“What are you two doing here?” Hera snaps. She seems greatly annoyed.

“I’m here on my wife’s behalf,” I say, trying to keep my tone mild. “And you?”

“I’m executing my own duties,” she says. “Take a hike, will you?”

I’m nonplussed by this, but it doesn’t matter. Hera can keep her secrets if she wants.

“Oh hey, did you come to see me?” Poseidon calls to her, coming up next to me.

“No,” Hera says coldly.

She divides a glare between the two of us. Peleus comes up from the dock and makes a respectful bow upon seeing her. 

“Queen of Heaven, you honor my city!” he says. “How may I and Phthia serve you?”

Hera folds her arms and taps her foot. Poseidon and I exchange a glance.

“Right. I’m gonna go check on some other fishing efforts. Hades, wanna come with me?” he says.

“Sure,” I reply, and transfer away with my brother. I wonder idly what Hera is up to.

***

I arrive home early in hopes of having time to prepare dinner for Persephone. Or, really, that she’ll come home before dinner is dried out and ruined. I suppose I should plan something that can stay warm. A stew, maybe?

As I approach the kitchen, I hear sounds. I find Persephone sitting on the floor between the island and the stove, wearing an apron, and holding it to her face as she sobs. “Oh, Sweetness, what happened?” I drop down next to her, but she draws back in surprise.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at work!” she cries.

“I came home early to make dinner. I guess you had a similar idea?”

I glance around the kitchen, which looks like the set of a cooking show after an insanely mean celebrity chef throws a tantrum. Persephone is normally very neat, cleaning up as she goes, but not today.

“Don’t look!” She grabs me and swivels my head back towards her. “I made an awful mess, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s your house, you’re allowed to make a mess.”

“I know, but--” Her tears start to flow again and she wipes them away, annoyed. 

I sit down on the floor with my back to the island, pull her into my arms, and give her my handkerchief. “What were you trying to make?”

“Pupcakes. Dog cupcakes, you know? I saw them online.” She shows me a picture on her phone of a little cake decorated with white icing. It looks much like Cordon Bleu. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“That’s very cute. Are they for the dogs?”

“No! They’re for you!”

“Oh.” I crane my head to look at the ones she made, sitting on the counter. They’re covered in blobs of icing, with bits of candy stuck on. If I squint I can sort of see that they’re meant to be faces. “What went wrong, do you think?”

“I don’t know! I guess the frosting is too runny.”

I break one in half and bite it. “They’re delicious, anyway.”

“Thank you.” She sniffs, and looks at me forlornly. “I guess I just don’t have the artistic skill.”

“You do have an abundance of other talents.”

“I do?”

“Mm-hmmm.” I hold out half the cake for her, and after a moment, she takes a bite. “And I think you do have the skill. You’re just tired, and who could blame you?”

Persephone takes another bite and rests her head on my shoulder. “I wanted to do something nice for you. I know how hard you’re working to make up for what I’m not doing, and helping in the Mortal Realm, too. You deserve to have some attention from your wife.”

“Persephone. You’re a very good cook, and an excellent housemate, but I didn’t marry you to cook and clean for me.”

“I know that. But still, part of my job is taking care of you.”

“And part of mine is taking care of _you_. Right now, you’re the one who needs it more than I do. Which is absolutely fine.”

She sighs. “You keep saying I’m overdoing it. And you’re right.” She wipes a tear from her eye, and looks at me with grim resignation. “I think I need to concentrate more on the Underworld.”

“Don’t give up on the living, Kore. I know it might seem pointless right now, but you’re doing so much good.” I would hate for her to be cast down by despair, and hate herself later for not doing everything she could. At the same time, I agree that she’s working much too hard.

“I won’t. I can’t, you’re right. But I have to recognize that there’s a limit to what I can do for them. But the dead--they can have Elysium. Or rebirth, assuming my mother ever relents.”

“That’s true. We can try rebirth with shades of older people. I imagine there’d be some volunteers who would take the risk that it might not work.”

“So all these people my mother is willing to kill because she can’t accept my autonomy--they should get another chance.”

I nod. “We can loosen some of the criteria for Elysium. Give more people a chance, because they didn’t get enough life to prove themselves.”

“Right. As long as they were on the right track.”

She nuzzles into my chest, then looks up at me with her big, appealing eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I kiss her temple, then reach up to grab another cupcake. We solemnly share that one too, down to licking one another’s fingers clean of icing. Under other circumstances I would interpret this as flirting, but Persephone is clearly not in that headspace. 

“That was an excellent dessert. How about we order some pizza now?” I suggest.

Persephone looks at me with wide eyes for a moment, and then giggles. “That actually sounds great. Then after that, more dessert?”

I laugh. “Anything you want, Sweetness.”

***

The groundbreaking ceremony for the sports center takes place downtown, several days later. The mayor scheduled it for early evening, all the better to cause terrible traffic jams. Persephone and I arrive early to a large pavilion set up next to the site. There’s an open bar, a band, and waiters circulating with canapés. 

As the starting time approaches, the tent begins to fill with the glittering exemplars of Underworld society. I can’t stand some of these people, but I sip champagne and smile tolerantly to everyone who tries to engage me in conversation. Persephone is having much more success: she’s surrounded by a fawning circle of admirers, hanging on her every word. I watch from a distance, with no small pleasure. This sort of attention is good for her, and she deserves the recognition for her hard work.

Mayor Tyche sidles up to me just prior to the beginning of the ceremony. “Good evening, Hades!” she crows, triumphant. “I never thought to see the day when you’d be here for the groundbreaking of my dream project!”

“Oh, I’m not really here,” I joke. “I’m just the trophy husband.” The mayor stares at me blankly, clearly not understanding. “You know, as Persephone’s plus-one? Her arm candy?” 

Tyche blinks rapidly, and gives a tentative laugh. “Oh, I see. Well, we do owe it all to our new Queen! She really knows how to get things done.”

“She certainly does.”

The musicians in the far corner of the pavilion start playing something, apparently a signal that this event is getting started. A lackey ushers me to a seat on a small dais behind the speaker’s podium. After a few moments, Persephone comes to sit next to me. 

There’s something about her posture and attitude that alerts me that she’s in a playful mood. She perches on her chair, her spine straight, shoulders back. Prim and proper; like a queen. After taking a moment to cross her legs and fold her hands, she glances at me out of the corner of her eye. She chose a lovely dress for this event: it’s black and close-fitting, with lines of white piping accenting it. I let a sly smile cross my face.

“Hi there, gorgeous,” I whisper, as some functionary begins a speech. “You come here often?”

“Oh no,” she whispers back. “I’m just here as a favor to a friend.” I congratulate myself on picking up her cue properly. 

“I’m lucky to have met you, then,” I say, leaning in closer. “Any chance you might be free after this shindig?”

“Hm.” She gives me a skeptical squint. “Free for what, though?”

“I was thinking maybe dinner?” I let her see me looking, my eyes roaming all over her. She’s learning greater control of her tell-tale flowers, so the fact that I can see a few tiny blue ones blooming in her hair probably means she's making them on purpose.

“My, aren't you the forward one! Pretty bold to be asking me out already, isn't it?” Her voice is husky and draws me like a magnet.

“Well, there's an awful lot of people here tonight, and I figure a lovely goddess like you can take her pick of the handsome gentlemen.”

“I see, so you're getting your bid in early?”

“Exactly. I'm not above tipping the odds if I can.”

“Oh, now, you're not going to tell me you're the kind of scoundrel who would cheat? I hardly think you need it.”

“You do know the very best method of cheating, don't you?”

“Hustling is more my skill than cheating, honestly. But please tell me.”

“Having a trusted accomplice.”

“Ah yes, a partner in crime. I've heard about that sort of thing.”

“Enough to give me a chance, maybe?”

Persephone draws breath to answer me and the two of us simultaneously become aware that the entire pavilion is waiting in complete silence. The mayor and the architects are standing nearby, smiling nervously and shuffling their feet. Watching us. We obviously missed our introduction.

I can see that Persephone is glowing with a blush, but she doesn’t allow her embarrassment to affect her behavior. She smiles graciously and rises to her feet, then shakes the Mayor’s hand. They pause to allow photographs and I stand in the background, looking on benevolently. 

The event proceeds from there. We’re given ceremonial shovels, and led out of the tent to the prepared area. Persephone takes up a shovelful of dirt and tosses it aside, to the sound of enthusiastic applause. I follow suit, feeling a bit foolish. The only thing I did for this project was encourage a smart, ambitious goddess to take it on, and approve the budget. She should get all the praise, not me.

Nevertheless, the Mayor and other officials seem delighted. There are handshakes all around, and many photographs. It’s a relief for the official part to be over. The food and alcohol begin to flow in earnest, and people circulate for conversations. 

Persephone is whisked away by various members of the city government. They’ve latched onto her with single-minded devotion, and I can’t say I mind. She enjoys the work, and it means better functioning for the city without my having to do it. What can I say, Mayor Tyche is extremely efficient and extremely annoying.

Behind me, a voice out of memory speaks in jesting tones, interrupting my introspection. “Hey, you old son of a Titan! I thought I might see you here.”

I turn to see a dark satyr, his face scarred with old marks. “Marsyas! It’s very good to see you. I thought you were lying low in the Mortal Realm?”

“I was, but I heard that some teeny nymph kicked that bastard Apollo’s ass.”

“Well, that’s partly true. It was a goddess, in fact.”

“Damn, I’d like to meet _her!_ Anyway, these people approached me about playing for this event, so I said yes. Might as well make some money from music again, right?” 

“Sure, I can see that. I would also agree the world is a better place without him in it.”

“Hell yes! Do you have any idea where he ended up? Is Tartarus too much to hope for?”

“He’s in the custody of the Furies. I don’t know specifics of where.”

“Under torment, though?”

I allow myself to smirk, and my friend smiles back. “Good. What an asshole. It’s about fucking time someone took him down.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Have you heard from Silenus lately?”

“No. Not for many years.” Unfortunately when I last parted from him it wasn’t on good terms.

“Yeah, no one’s heard from him, apparently. I guess he’s keeping to himself.”

“I suppose so,” I reply. A waiter is circulating with glasses of champagne, so we each take one. “Shall we drink to him, then?”

“How appropriate!” Marsyas taps his glass to mine, and we drink. As he lowers his glass, he does a double take upon spotting something behind me. “Oh, hey, check out the hottie!”

I turn to look, mostly out of reflex. There’s a group of people over by the display of posters of the sports complex, but the only possible candidate Marsyas could be referring to is Persephone. She’s standing a few paces from me talking to the Mayor and the chief of police, turned partly away, allowing a three-quarter view. It’s a very fine view, I must admit. 

“That’s my wife,” I tell him. I’m not even mad. She is a hottie, and that dress she’s wearing really makes the most of her… assets.

“Wait, _you_ got married? I didn’t know--”

“Know that my wife is the most beautiful goddess ever? It’s true, I’m very lucky. She’s smart, kind, and funny, too.”

“Um--”

“You said you wanted to meet her. Persephone!”

She glances at me, excuses herself from the conversation, and promptly comes over to take my arm. She beams at me in a way that could only be more gratifying if she were willing to start making out with me in front of the whole crowd. Her eyes say it all, really. 

“This is Marsyas, an old friend. Marsyas, you said you wanted to meet the goddess who brought retribution to an Olympian.” Persephone twitches slightly and I squeeze her hand. “My wife, Persephone, Goddess of Spring.”

Marsyas’s eyes go round with astonishment. “It’s an honor to meet you. I guess that asshole hurt you, too. I’d like to thank you on behalf of all his victims over the years. There have been quite a few that I know.”

Persephone nods slowly, her empathy overpowering her tension. “I’ve heard from a few of them, myself.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I was an uppity little shit. Can’t say I deserved what he dealt out, though.” He runs a finger along his scars meditatively.

“At any rate, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Will we see more of you in the Underworld?”

His face lights up. “You know, I’d like that very much.”

We make arrangements to get together for dinner next week, and Marsyas excuses himself to get back to playing music. Persephone smiles up at me.

"I'm glad to meet more of your friends," she says. "I was starting to wonder if everybody was intimidated or just had bad taste."

"Oh. Marsyas and I go way back. I used to hang around with a bunch of satyrs. Back in what passed for my rebellious youth.”

Persephone grins widely. “Blowing off your duties, running around, getting drunk?”

“Something like that. Wild and crazy times, as long as it was after 5:00 PM.” 

“Work hard, play hard. That sounds about right.”

It occurs to me that getting married so young deprived Persephone of her chance to have a wild youth. I wonder if I should offer her more chances to go out. With me, or maybe with her friends. Then again, with the way she’s working herself to exhaustion on a daily basis, she probably wouldn’t agree.

***

Persephone and I enter the courtroom, holding hands. The moment when she spots my little surprise, she laughs. “Oh, you didn’t!” she says.

“I totally did. I can’t let your delightful ass get sore,” I tell her.

She laughs again and climbs the dais to inspect the cushions I had delivered. They’re made from black velvet and are embroidered with pomegranates and roses. 

“A little ostentatious, don’t you think?”

“Not in the least,” I reply, pretending to be offended. “They’re the height of style!”

She smirks gently. “Thank you, Smush. I appreciate it very much.”

We take our seats, and only then notice that the courtroom is empty. This is very unusual. 

“Did we get the time wrong?” I ask. 

“Both of us?” Persephone takes out her phone to check. “No, it’s correct. You don’t suppose they’re planning a surprise or something?”

The very notion is ludicrous, and I start to say so, but then again--things have been upended since we were married. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility. I hear faint sounds coming from out in the hall. Persephone turns to look at me, just as surprised as I am.

After a few moments, the courtroom door bursts open. There are a number of nymphs, satyrs, and daimons, all of them paying worshipful attention--to a man. Walking along, strumming a lyre, singing a song about love and loss. It’s rather affecting, or it would be, if it weren’t being sung in _my_ \--no, _our_ \--courtroom.

“What is going on here?” I bellow. 

The sound stops abruptly and the crowd of people turn guiltily to look at Persephone and me, waiting on our thrones. No one speaks. In the back of the crowd, I recognize a number of people. Some of them are the court functionaries who belong here, but I also spot Hermes, Moros, Hecate, and the Furies.

“Rejoice, O gloomy god and reluctant goddess!” cries the mortal, flourishing one hand. “I am here to grace your court with light and music!”

There’s dead silence as everyone side-eyes everyone else, afraid to speak.

“Hecate. _Why_ is there a living mortal in the courtroom?” I ask. 

“Beats me,” she says. “I just got here.”

“ _Someone_ is responsible for this travesty,” I say. 

“Oh, um, I guess that’s me,” says a voice at the back of the room. Hermes. Of course. “He played this song and it was _amazing._ So I kinda… let him in?”

I exchange a glance with Persephone. I have rarely seen her look so angry, which is rather intriguing, really. I wonder why she’s reacting so strongly.

“What brings a mortal man to the Underworld?” she demands, her voice ringing in the quiet room. 

I sit back to watch her. This situation is ridiculous and insulting, but it gives me a kick seeing Persephone wield her queenly authority.

“O sun-kissed goddess, brightest flower of the living world, star of her lonely mother’s eye!”

Numerous of the watching nymphs and satyrs react with delight, clapping hands and hopping in excitement at the mortal’s poetic effusion. What is this nonsense? He’s nothing but a blathering moron. 

The mortal strums a chord on his lyre. “May I sing for you, great ones?”

“You may _not,_ ” Persephone’s voice cracks. All three Furies snap to attention, focusing on her. “You may tell your story, quickly and efficiently.”

The mortal looks stricken, as if no one’s ever denied him. Arrogant prick. He reminds me of someone. He shuffles his feet for a moment, and rubs his hand through his hair. Then he clears his throat and speaks. “My wife died. I love her beyond all capacity of mortal men, beyond any love the world has ever known! I want her back. She was taken from me too soon, and it’s not just.”

“How is that unjust?” I demand, letting myself be threatening. “All mortals die. You will die in your turn as well. If you had waited for that day, or brought it about by your own hand, we would likely now be reuniting you with your wife. Why have you chosen to insult us by coming here this way?”

The mortal appears affronted. “How can life be an insult? I want to bring my Eurydice back with me, back to the sunlight, back to bear my children and live by my side!”

Persephone leans forward suddenly. “You are Eurydice’s husband?”

He beams at her. “I am, bitter goddess! Surely you, ripped from your mother’s side in your innocence, must understand what it is to long for the living world! Surely you must find mercy in your heart for a lovesick bard!”

Everyone in the courtroom understands the profound nature of the mortal’s misstep, implying Persephone is not here by her own free will. Her eyes are growing red and a faint wisp of thorns twists through the spikes of her crown. I sit back and smile, watching.

“You claim to love her beyond all reason, yet you came here as a living man. You weren’t willing to sacrifice for your beloved. You found some way to sneak into our realm, like a thief in the night. You thought you could come here and mock us? You thought rules don’t apply to you, because you can sing? You didn’t understand that you could be reunited with your wife upon your own death? Son of Apollo, I name you, and as arrogant as your father!”

My head whips around and I glare at the mortal. Dark hair, golden eyes, the lyre--she's right. The rage boils up in me, the urge to kill, the urge to punish, to make _someone_ suffer for what happened to her. My hands tighten into fists, my arms trembling with the effort to stay in control. My joints cramp and I let out a low hiss.

Persephone's control is adamant. Her face shows nothing, her posture is aloof. She is every bit a queen and I've never been more impressed. The only sign she's aware of my feelings is the slight movement of her hand, fingers reaching out toward me.

The mortal is stunned by her ire. “I am Orpheus, son of Apollo, it is true.”

My eyes narrow. “By coming here, you have deliberately provoked us, thinking you could charm gods with your songs and your smiles. Thinking we would subvert the natural order of things, for your sake. And why? Because your divine parent never taught you proper humility?”

Orpheus chokes a gasp. “I--I never met him. But my mother says I am exactly like him.”

“That is not a compliment, mortal man,” Alecto hisses. “Not in the Underworld.”

“Please, just let me sing my song! I know it will convince you!”

“Do you think we can’t see right through you?” Persephone says. “Do you think we can’t see that your grief is more for yourself than for your wife? You enjoy the attention. You enjoy others’ pity, and you thought to make a name for yourself as some kind of hero who tricked the gods!”

“I had heard that Hera’s tongue is sharper than a viper’s. Is it so for all goddesses?” the mortal cries, his indignation apparent in every line of his body.

“You think to insult our Mistress with your comparison to snakes, mortal?” Megaera says, soft and menacing. She and her sisters move now from the back of the room, walking slowly until they stand within arm’s reach of the bard.

He swallows nervously, seeming to recognize the danger of his situation for the first time. “I mean no disrespect, great ones. On the contrary, it must be a matter of tremendous pride to marry such a one. Truly, she is like a hawk in flight, is she not?”

“Be very careful, mortal man. Your flattery wins you no favors here,” I snarl.

“I… no, I beg forgiveness. I am but a simple man, and young at that. I have little else to compare to aside from the exquisite creatures I see in the forest. Please, may I sing for you, your Majesties? I would show you the depth of my anguish!”

“Your anguish is for yourself,” Persephone replies. “You came here so certain of your cause, yet you did not even ask what Eurydice wants.”

For the first time, the listening audience is swayed against the handsome mortal. They look at one another and nod, murmuring words acknowledging the truth of Persephone’s statement.

She waits until the whispering dies down and she is the focus of attention once more, then leans forward on her throne and narrows her eyes. She speaks in a low growl. “I can raise her for you, you know. Bring her back to life. I’m the only one who can do it. Where are your brazen words now, singer?”

She looks at me, her eyes hot with anger, barely containing her rage.

“What about the wife, though?” I whisper. 

Persephone nods. “Tisiphone, please bring Eurydice from Elysium. We will see what she has to say.”

***

“Eurydice, what is your will in this matter?”

The woman looks at the floor, not raising her eyes by even a hand’s breadth. “I--I have been full of joy in your realm, my lady. I am grateful to you.”

Persephone sighs. “Your gratitude isn’t necessary. You earned your place, and I am delighted you like it. You are a hero, Eurydice. You saved other mortals--children. You have earned a boon from us, if you wish it.”

She sighs deeply, and scuffs her foot on the floor. She glances to the door, knowing her husband is just outside. We cleared the courtroom in order to speak with her privately.

The shade gathers her thoughts for a long moment. “I thought--I thought I would see Orpheus again, in due time, assuming he was able to earn his way into Elysium, too. I was not certain he would be able to. I love him, you see, but I know he is a brash young man. I know he swaggers quite a bit. Like a rooster, no?”

I detect a very slight curve to Persephone’s lips. “I see the resemblance.”

“I changed, when I died. I saw things I never understood before. My place in the world, and how little things like money and acclaim matter. I did not understand that. I suppose I was a rather shallow girl. More interested in gossip and bragging than important matters.”

“But you have grown since then?” I ask.

“I believe I have, great lord. Still… he came all this way for me. He has braved terrible odds, for my sake.”

Or if Persephone is right, for the sake of his own reputation. For the sake of a song.

“My lady, if I return--will I go right back to being the same vapid girl I was?”

I have no idea, myself. This situation is completely without precedent.

Persephone sounds certain, though. “You will remember your time here. What you do with that is up to you.”

“That is good to know,” Eurydice says. 

“You have earned the right to choose. What would you have me do?” Persephone asks.

“Perhaps… I have noticed that Orpheus values a prize more if he must fight to win. Perhaps it would be best if he has to struggle to get me back.”

Persephone nods slowly. “Hmm... I have an idea.”

***

“Here is how it will be, mortal man,” Persephone says, stern and formal, her voice pitched for the entire room of onlookers. “You will have a chance to win your wife back. You will leave this room, and walk out of the Underworld, back the way you came. Eurydice will follow you, but you may not look at her. You may not turn around at all. If you manage to do that, all the way up to the living world, I will restore her to life.”

“O Magnificent Queen!” the singer begins. “Truly your gracious kindness is--”

“I’m not finished.”

Everyone waits nervously for Persephone to conclude. I smile in quiet satisfaction, watching her from the corner of my eye. 

“If you fail, she will return to the Underworld, to Elysium, which she earned and you did not. And my curse will be upon you. You will know living death, until such time as the gods take mercy on you.”

***

We wait in the courtroom, all alone, until someone brings news back to us about what happened. The door opens with a soft creak, and a single figure pads in. Eurydice kneels at the foot of the dais once more.

“My lady, I thank you for the chance you gave him. It was most kind, though I know he offended you.”

Persephone sighs softly. “He did. Nevertheless I am sorry for you that it didn’t work out.”

The shade woman nods. “He always was prideful. It is a shame he could not overcome it, even for a short time. I will miss him, but perhaps this is for the best.”

“I don’t know how you manage to be so philosophical, Eurydice,” I say. “I admire that.”

“Great lord, I knew happiness for a time, but then I learned that my happiness was built on half-truths. I am glad now to know more, even if it means I lost something I valued. I am glad not to be the girl I was any longer. Truly, with death comes understanding.”

“You may return to Elysium now,” Persephone says. “I will visit you soon and we can talk more. If at some point in the future you decide you would like to be reborn, you have only to ask.”

The woman bows to each of us and departs the courtroom. Persephone takes my hand as I rise, and we go out the other door.

“So, did this power to lay curses come out of nowhere?” I ask.

“What? Oh, that. No, it wasn’t anything with my powers. I just made a prediction.” She shrugs.

I nod. “I have a strong feeling you’re going to be right, though.”

Persephone was completely right to stand against the arrogant mortal, but at the same time I can’t help feeling a tiny scrap of pity for him. He lost the woman he treasured, even if perhaps he didn’t value her for the right reasons. 

My own lovely wife will be young always, by my side forever. She will be small and curvy, generous and loyal and smart, and I--I will just go on being me. She is my Queen and my beloved, and I am hers. Persephone is everything I ever wanted and far more than I ever hoped to deserve.

Art from IG@aprilsketcho:  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Red for beta work, and Ellis, daalex, artdork, porkiswayne, and Panda for wordsmithing.
> 
> Follow @VerdiWithin on Twitter for news and previews.


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